


Sensory Overload

by brokencasbutt67



Series: Good Omens Bingo [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Light Angst, Meltdown, Sensory Overload
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:07:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28837545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokencasbutt67/pseuds/brokencasbutt67
Summary: This fills another square of the Good Omens Bingo - more specifically, the Sensory Overload square.It's based entirely on my own experiences - so it may differ from your own experiences. There's no real relationship here, just Aziraphale being a bro.
Series: Good Omens Bingo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087919
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	Sensory Overload

_Tick tock.  
_

The clock is ticking, it’s highlighting how long Crowley has been laid here. Aziraphale is meant to be visiting soon, or… something like that. Crowley knows that he should move from the bedroom, he knows that he should go and clear up the mess, in preparation for Aziraphale’s arrival. He can’t bring himself to move from the bed though.

The clock is ticking, it gets louder and louder. The sounds in the room are silent, and yet Crowley can hear every single one. His clothes are itching at his skin too, he can feel the rough denim and the way it brushes against the hairs on his leg. He covers his head with the pillow, hoping that somehow, it’ll silence the sounds.

The lights are bright, so bright that Crowley’s sunglasses can’t even dampen them. He covers his head with the pillow, a low moan of pain. The noises get louder, the lights get brighter, it’s as though everything is circling him, they’re predators and he’s their prey.

He doesn’t even know what started this. _Tick tock, tick tock._

Crowley shakes his head, while pulling the pillow tighter. Aziraphale should be coming soon, _he can help_. Crowley can feel something on his face, a dampness trailing down his cheeks. He can’t stop it; it’s irritating his skin and the scales that lie beneath.

_Tick tock, tick tock._

_Aziraphale will be here soon._

Crowley tries to pull the pillow away, but it only amplifies his stress. He pulls the duvet over himself, hiding himself from outside of his flat. The ticking only gets louder, the lights get brighter. Crowley can feel each fold in the duvet against his jeans. He can feel where the mattress cover has lifted slightly, and the creases that followed.

There’s a knocking somewhere in his flat, Crowley knows that it’s probably Aziraphale who’s knocking. But the rational side of Crowley’s mind is going into a meltdown. He pulls the duvet tighter around him, and the pillow tighter over his head. Nothing will silence the sounds that fill the flat and his head.

“Crowle – oh, my dear” Aziraphale’s voice fills the room. Crowley can’t bring himself to look over, _tick tock, tick tock._ Aziraphale reaches up and turns the light off in the bedroom, before moving to sit on the edge of the bed. He strokes his hand down, what he believes is, Crowley’s back for a few moments, before pulling away.

“Dear, are you okay?” Aziraphale asks. He remains stoic, looking down at Crowley. The demon is flailing on the bed, thrashing to cover his ears and eyes, muttering _tick tock_ every so often.

Aziraphale shifts to stand up after a moment, becoming aware that Crowley probably needs space and time to come back to himself. He stands awkwardly in the doorway, feeling useless. He doesn’t know what Crowley needs, or what he could do to make the situation any better for Crowley.

Looking around, Aziraphale sees a clock in the corner of the room. _Tick tock._ He looks between Crowley and the clock for a few moments, before removing the clock from the bedroom. He’s not sure if it will help, he doesn’t know _what_ to do though, and he wants to help Crowley.

They’d planned a date at The Ritz, but Aziraphale is too focused, on looking after Crowley to care about that. He brings his attention back to Crowley; the demon is no longer thrashing. Aziraphale lights up slightly as he gets an idea. He leaves the bedroom for a few moments, just long enough to get a glass of water. He wanders back over to Crowley’s bedroom, placing the glass on the dresser before sitting on the edge of the bed. Aziraphale strokes his fingers down Crowley’s back, hoping it grounds him. Crowley has tears staining his cheeks, he’s still holding the pillow over his head.

But he’s starting to ease. Aziraphale can see that much. He isn’t sure what else he can do to help Crowley, other than be here for when Crowley comes back to himself. He looks down at Crowley, before removing his own jacket.

“Are you okay?” Aziraphale asks. He knows that it’s probably not the best time to ask it, but by asking it, he hopes that it’ll help Crowley to come out of his overload. Aziraphale has experienced this and he knows what Crowley is going through, and he knows how difficult it can be to come back to reality. Aziraphale was alone when he had it, he doesn’t want to Crowley to go through the same thing.

Eventually, a few minutes pass and Crowley tosses the pillow aside. He kicks the duvet away, though he doesn’t give any acknowledgement to Aziraphale. Instead, Crowley sits up and looks down at the carpet as he brushes his hair back. Aziraphale sits on the edge of the bed, giving Crowley some space while simultaneously, trying to show that he cares.

Crowley still doesn’t speak, though eventually, he turns to Aziraphale and hugs him tightly. No words are spoken, Aziraphale only shifts closer to stroke his hand over Crowley’s shoulders lightly.

“Are you okay, dear?” Aziraphale asks, hearing Crowley’s shaky breathing. Crowley seems to be calming down, though Aziraphale doesn’t want to take any risks yet.

“Thank you” Crowley mumbles, pulling back slightly. He sighs, wiping his eyes. Looking up, he’s met with the confused eyes of Aziraphale.

“You’re half-turned” Aziraphale exclaimed. Crowley frowned, though he lifted his hand. Beneath his fingers, Crowley can feel the countless scales that litter his skin in his true form.

“Oh… sorry” he mumbles, brushing them away. He looks down to the carpet again.

“Sorry about this, I’m not really up to the Ritz, if you don’t mind,” Crowley says. Aziraphale frowns.

“Oh, don’t be silly dear. I was thinking we could watch a movie, perhaps under a blanket on your sofa” Aziraphale suggests, with a small smile. Crowley nods, looking up to Aziraphale.

“That sounds nice... thank you” He responds.


End file.
